Sunday, 30 September 2012

Miss Jacobson's Journey

Adventure, romance, danger, war, murder, high finance, and a touch of humour--

Miss Jacobson's Journey is the first book in this Regency trilogy (aka the Rothschild Trilogy). Originally published in the US in hardcover in 1992, and also available as an ebook, it will be out in the UK in paperback on October 4th, along with the second and third books of the trilogy, Lord Roworth's Reward and Captain Ingram's Inheritance.

Miriam Jacobson refuses the man her parents
chose for her to marry, instead travelling through Europe as assistant
to her doctor uncle. When he dies, she's caught on the wrong side of the
Channel in wartime. Her only hope to get home to England is to accept
an assignment from the Rothschilds, to smuggle gold to Lord Wellington
in Spain. She sets out across enemy France with two young men who
loathe each other--and her!

Excerpt: (starting middle of Chapter 2)

"The truth
is that Nathan, who is a naturalized Englishman, has
been commissioned by the British government to convey a very large
sum of money to General Wellington in Portugal. I have received
the gold here in Paris and now it must be transported through
France and across the Pyrenees."

"I'm
delighted to hear that you are working for the British government,
but what has it to do with me?"

"You
have asked a favour of me, now I shall ask a favour of you.
I need a guide to assist in this venture. You speak French and
Spanish, you know the country. Help me in this and I shall see
that you reach England safely."

"Surely
you can hire someone!"

"For
this task, I cannot trust anyone I might hire in France."

"I
suppose not," Miriam unwillingly agreed.

"You
see, Fräulein, your government sent a guardian with the shipment,
an English ­goy­ to make sure that we Jews do not cheat. But
this ­gentleman­,"
he said the word in English, "Lord Felix Roworth,
knows nothing of France. There is also Nathan's agent,

who
must accompany the gold so that he can take Wellington's receipts
back to my brother. He too is unfamiliar with the route.
What am I to do?"

In
the pause that followed this plaintive question, the fall of a
log in the grate sounded loud. Her unseeing gaze on the rush
of sparks up the chimney, Miriam recalled that one of the reasons
she had insisted on accompanying Uncle Amos on his travels
was a desire for adventure. The years had been interesting,
she felt she had been useful to him, but there had not,
really, been any adventure worth mentioning. A bubble of excitement
swelled within her.

Hannah
read her mind. "Miss Miriam, you wouldn't..."

"Your
patriotic duty," Jakob Rothschild interrupted. "General
Wellington is in desperate need of funds to pay the British
Army."

"You
will send us home as soon as we return to Paris?"

"From
Bordeaux, if you wish it, Fräulein." Suddenly he was all
business. "You brought your luggage with you?"

"No,
but we packed in case we needed to leave quickly."

"Give
me the direction and I shall send for it. You leave today."

"But
I have not take proper leave of my hosts," Miriam protested,
"and I am not dressed for travelling."

"You
may change your clothes when your boxes arrive, and write
to your hosts in the meantime. I shall see your letter delivered.
There are writing materials in my office. Come this way,
please. You must make the acquaintance of your travelling companions
while I complete the arrangements."

He
led the way through a connecting door into a large room furnished
with a desk, a huge iron safe, a number of straight wooden
chairs and three or four plain leather-covered armchairs. Two
of the latter were occupied. The occupants rose to their

feet
and bowed as Miriam entered.

"Lord
Felix Roworth." Jakob Rothschild indicated the tall, broad-shouldered
gentleman with golden hair and blue eyes. Immaculate
in a coat of snuff-brown superfine, elegantly simple cravat,
dove-grey waistcoat, skintight buckskins and white-topped boots,
he appeared to be in his late twenties. "Isaac Cohen," Herr
Rothschild continued the introductions. "Mees Jacobson."

Miriam
glanced at the second man and nodded, but she scarcely saw
him. Her gaze swung back at once to Lord Felix. He was the very
embodiment of her schoolgirl dreams.

­Chapter 3­

"Here
are pens and ink for your letter, Fräulein." Herr Rothschild
crossed to the desk and took some sheets of paper from a
drawer. "Cohen, the lady goes with you." He spoke in
Yiddish now.
"I must make final arrangements. I shall return shortly."

Miriam
was distantly aware that Mr. Cohen uttered an unheeded protest.
She was all too aware of Lord Felix's rude appraisal, swiftly
followed by sneering dismissal.

"What
did he say, Cohen?" his lordship enquired in English in a
haughty tone.

"Miss
Jacobson goes with us," said the other curtly. The air between
them crackled with animosity.

As
she moved to the desk she turned her attention to Isaac Cohen.
Nathan Rothschild's agent, a year or two older than his lordship
and a trifle taller, but more slenderly built, was dressed
in a fashion less elegant than businesslike. His hair was
dark, crisply springing from a broad brow, and his dark eyes stared
at her with undisguised hostility.

He
looked vaguely familiar. Seating herself at the desk, Miriam
wondered momentarily whether she had met him before. Surely
she would have remembered him; he was really rather good-looking
in his own way, though not to be compared with the

arrogant
Lord Felix.

Dipping
a quill pen, she began to write to the Benjamins, but already
she had half a mind to back out of her agreement with Jakob.
Neither of her prospective travelling companions had exactly
greeted her advent with delight. In fact, while she wrote
she listened with mingled amusement and indignation as they grudgingly
united in opposition to taking her with them. They appeared
to dislike that idea even more than they disliked each other.

Hannah,
who had come to stand behind her, bent down and whispered,
"God forbid we should stay where we're not wanted, Miss
Miriam."

"It
doesn't look promising, does it?" She signed the note, blotted
and folded it, though far from certain it would be needed.
"Only, what if we can't find anyone else to help us

cross
the Channel?"

"There'll
be others, God willing, as won't send you to Spain afore
they'll send you to England."

"I'd
like to help that English general--but you are right. To
travel so far with two gentlemen who resent our presence would be
foolish. Herr Rothschild will find someone else. I hate to continue
to impose upon the Benjamins, though."

"They're
glad to have us, for your uncle's sake. Let's be off."

"No,
I cannot just walk out on Herr Rothschild. We shall wait
until he returns."

An
uncomfortable silence enveloped the room's occupants. Lord
Felix stood at the window, looking out, his fingers tapping impatiently
on the sill. Mr. Cohen strode up and down the room, frowning.
His lithe pacing reminded Miriam of a black panther she
had once seen at the Tower of London zoo. Neither
of them so much as glanced at her, and she realized that
neither had spoken a word directly to her. The situation was
impossible.

E-book and large print covers

October 14th, I'll post a blurb and excerpt for Lord Roworth's Reward.